Snow still retreating slowly from
fissures in the Sawtooth Mountains.
Magnificient, western umbra; dusk
still a long way off; the beauty
immediate. The Salmon River
issues by and sings to us
her long, long song.
July extends its kindness
as cow herds drift on broad,
alluvial pastures—rising calm.
How vaporous my daughters are
as they drift from our sulphur pool.
rdking